by Gary Bregar
****
“Majesty, thank you for allowing me to make an impression on you during your travels,” Balki said with a genuine smile.
“Balki, I am considering you for a position at Obengaard, and I do not make decisions lightly. I would like to know you better, and what better way than to share the remainder of my travels,” responded Zander as they rode in the king’s coach.
The road they traveled was brutal in its appearance, riddled with holes and crevasses and covered in mildly large stones. The carriage, however, had been constructed of Sovereign wood and was so enchanted that, from the inside, it felt as smooth as gliding across still water.
“Majesty, anything that I can do or say that will assist you with your decision, I gladly offer,” Balki said.
“Tell me, young Balki, of your experience with the Spiers. After all, you have lived in their company for the whole of your life, and I would very much like to know your thoughts on the arrangement managed between the Maskes and your neighbors dwelling in the mines.”
Balki had very strong feelings against the arrangement with the Spiers. He personally felt as though the riches of the Spiers could be taken without any arrangement, and would quickly demote the Spiers to lower-class citizens of Forris, if he had his way. But he knew that this was not the response that the king was hoping for, so he would put on a performance that would offer up explanations nearly the opposite of his true thoughts. If he needed to cloak to make his statements believable, then he would.
“Majesty, I believe that the arrangement with the Spiers is a good one and might even be improved if they are allowed to receive even more of our gifts in exchange for their wealth. They have no sense for the value of the riches of the mines and would gladly trade more if offered.”
“I see,” Zander said. “There has been talk of allowing the Spiers to appoint their own ambassador to Obengaard, so that their interests might be properly represented. What would you make of such a bold move?”
“I would consider any decision on your part to be a wise one, Majesty. Offering a position to the Spiers that would give them a voice in matters of state would be a noticeable shift away from the long-held policies of the kingdom. Given that the only members of your advisory council have been Fories up to this point, would you be willing to also make ambassadorships available to all of the inhabitants within Forris?”
The king paused for several moments as he pondered the question presented by Balki. As he did, Balki continued, “Sir, surely you would not grant appointments to the Spiers without including representation by the others. The fairies would likely balk at the thought of being left out, as would the mountains and the simpler animals. There are roughly a dozen inhabitants within the kingdom that currently enjoy their own form of local government. Would you consider all of them for appointments?”
Balki had a strong opinion that none of the Forris inhabitants should be given the right to voice their opinions at Obengaard, but he presented it in such a way that the king would arrive at the decision as his own.
“You make a strong point, Balki. You are already proving to be a valuable adviser with such an insight. Tell me, what are your thoughts of my upcoming summit with Bore and Tongar?”
“I believe that open communication with the other kingdoms of Mantle can be nothing but positive. The leadership of Forris under your rule is invaluable to the ongoing peace among the kingdoms of Mantle. Forris, as you well know, is the richest and most powerful of the three kingdoms, and your ability to keep the kingdoms of Bore and Tongar in peace is vital to our continued success.”
Balki believed none of what he was saying. He secretly felt that all of Mantle should bow down to the Fories; that the Fories were in a position to dictate to the others, and should not be bound to what he considered to be silly treaties and truces that had been drawn up centuries ago. He was hungry for war and would slowly position himself to create it.
And although there appeared to be only two passengers in the king’s coach that day, the inflock was listening as well—learning the nature of both Zander and Balki as they spoke, and patiently calculating its own plan. The inflock, however, wasn’t interested in bringing Forris to the ruling forefront by way of war. Its goal was chaos and evil, suffering and destruction. It had no interest in the politics between the kingdoms of Mantle, only the return of Menagraff to rule with an iron and brutal fist. So it listened and it learned.
“I agree, Balki. It was my father who taught me, at an early age, that for one man to be truly happy and content, he must always and forever consider the happiness and contentment of the man standing beside him. No person can be free of suffering if he knows that another is suffering.”
Inside himself, Balki was scoffing at the notion that each man is bound to the happiness of others. He felt that the equality of all men was a ridiculous goal—for the ruler of any kingdom to have. But he continued with his acting.
“Yes, your father was a wise man. He recognized that peace and harmony should be as equally distributed as possible in order to maintain a noble position in the world. I applaud your efforts to continue his legacy.”
“Yes, well my desire to maintain the happiness of my people is challenging, given my circumstances. By my mere reflection of unhappiness, it has been difficult for me to continue in my father’s footsteps. You obviously know of my affliction and the reason for my bitter appearance. Do you have any doubt in my ability to rule in such a state as this?”
Balki knew why the king held his unhappy expression. Everyone knew, but no one would dare to bring up the subject directly to the king himself, so he would tread lightly on the subject.
“Majesty, I believe that your ability to rule is not decided by any affliction that you might have,” Balki replied. He thought that his response was one of a diplomatic nature without any hint of dispute, and without addressing the question directly.
“I notice that you are avoiding the topic, young Balki. I assure you that I am not made of glass and will not break so easily. Tell me what you think on the matter,” Zander replied, brows raised.
Balki, realizing that the king would require a more direct answer, was determined to proceed with caution. “Sir, in my opinion, the only person who might accurately answer that question is you. The question is whether or not you are content; whether you are happy. With that answered, the affliction will become secondary.” Again, another diplomatic and indirect answer.
“I see, young Balki, that you intend to avoid the subject altogether. I was hoping that you might have some insight as to the mood among my subjects when they look upon me. It’s no bother however, as I understand that my personal battle to regain my true expression is not likely to be understood by others. It is my own fight to win, and fortunately, I have it on good authority that my battle may soon be won. I only hope that I recognize my prize when I see it.”
Balki realized that the king had been counseled at some point that he might regain his smile soon. This was not the news that Balki wanted to hear. He would prefer that the king continue with his curse indefinitely, making Balki’s craving for power that much easier to satisfy.
The inflock was equally distressed by the notion that Zander might regain his expression. It would mean that the king’s outlook would be all the more positive and the king all the more powerful. A smile is such a simple thing, but it carries with it an incredible power that can affect all of those around him. The inflock, now more awakened, would do its best to guide Balki to prevent such a change in the king.
They stopped along the way only once to sleep, and Balki was convinced that he had satisfied any possible concerns that the king might have about his motives. He put on quite a show for the king, acting as though his primary concern was for the welfare of the Fories, and convincing him that diplomatic and peaceful solutions could be found for any potential problems facing the three kingdoms of Mantle. He was quite proud of himself.
****
As they rode into the village
of Terra, there were loud cheers from the crowds lining the streets that led to the main square. Everyone had shown up for the king’s arrival that day. After all, he hadn’t been to Terra in years, so for many this was their first glimpse of the young king.
Unlike most of the other villages of Forris, Terra did not lay claim to anything as elaborate as fairies, precious stones, or glass. The magic of Terra was interspersed among its inhabitants and varied greatly. If any claim to fame could be made by the Terrans, it was the produce that was grown to taste more magnificent than any other in the kingdom. Its livestock also had powers to produce tools and affect the weather and climate of the surrounding area. But even though nearly everything and everyone in the village was touched by magic in some way, there were no structures built of gold, no roads paved in glass, and no jewel-encrusted robes draping the backs of its residents. The streets were lined with simple wooden structures, painted in a wide variety of colors, and the surrounding hills were peppered with cottages and farms with rows of crops embedded into the sides of the hills. Farther outside of the town center, the land became flat with large fields of crops that could be seen for miles in every direction.
When the king stepped off his coach with Balki following behind, he was met once again by the mayorgovern of Terra. He was, of course, a short stocky man, and the king gave a brief and silent chuckle at the sight of him.
When Balki stepped off the coach, however, he was overcome with a sense of dread. The inflock had sensed a dangerous presence on the land, something in complete contradiction of its own evil existence. Balki became flush and nearly collapsed after only a moment.
“Majesty,” said the mayorgovern, “may I have the honor of welcoming you to our humble village?”
“Thank you, Mayorgovern; it seems we have saved the most enthusiastic for last. It has been a long journey and it appears that my traveling companion, who has just joined us from Maske, seems to be a bit ill. Could you please assist young Balki Touro with a drink?”
“Yes, right away, sir.”
The mayorgovern brought a simple glass filled with water and handed it to Balki, who quickly drank it to the end. It appeared to be simple water; however, it rejuvenated him to full strength immediately. He suspected that it had been enchanted as a remedy of some kind, but he voiced no complaint. The inflock, however, did not appreciate the magic of Terra being used so deliberately and openly without warning. What could it do, though? Balki was certain to use any remedy available to cure his physical discomfort. That was a basic need that the inflock would not have control over—at least for now.
Terra had constructed a stage, just as all of the other villages had. It was a simple design made of wood, but it had been painted a color of white that seemed to reflect the rays of the sun as if it were made of pearl. It wasn’t, since Forris had no seas, but the illusion was there all the same.
As the king stepped onto the stage, he looked out over the crowd. He estimated that there were nearly a thousand Terrans standing about waiting for him to speak. Zander, looking over the crowd, wondered if the person or thing that would lift his curse was somewhere near. He choked up at the thought that his curse might not be lifted and nearly shed a tear at the thought of it.
“People of Terra, thank you for such an enthusiastic and welcoming reception. I am certainly the most fortunate of all the kings of Mantle.
“Throughout my journeys these past months, I have witnessed extraordinary things—Fories working together, not only for the betterment of themselves, but also for the elevation of the happiness of those around them. We are truly a selfless people and we care for one another as brothers and sisters of the same family. I have never before been so inspired as I have during my tour of this great kingdom.
“The village of Terra, while of a simpler nature than some, is vital to the success of the kingdom. My father, King Alexo, always had a special place set aside in his heart for this village. He spoke often to me of the good nature and kindness of the Terrans. He spoke of the pride that the Terrans have in their crops, and the unwavering friendship that you have with the animal population here.
“While others can lay claim to impressive and sometimes spectacular feats of enchantment, nowhere in this kingdom is the magic of the Fories so prevalent, diverse, and in complete harmony as it is here in Terra.”
With that, the crowd burst into applause and yells of cheer. It was true that the village contained within its borders such a wide variation of magic that no other village could compete, and it was a great honor to the Terrans to hear the king state this outright. It was a verification of the worth of the village itself.
As King Zander stood looking out on the crowd, he was about to continue his speech when he noticed something peculiar at the far edge of the gathering—a single chicken that seemed to float just above the crowd. He couldn’t tell how this was happening, as it was at a distance, but the sight of this chicken stopped him from speaking. He had never witnessed such a thing, which was difficult to grasp, given the many spectacles that he had witnessed on his trip.
Balki also noticed the inexplicable sight and was determined to draw the king’s attention away from it.
“Majesty,” he called up to the stage, “are you all right, sir?”
“Yes, Balki, I am fine,” said Zander as he suddenly stepped down from the stage. The crowd slowly went silent as they realized that the king had been distracted from his prepared words and was now making his way through the crowd. They were terrified that something might have upset the king, since the expression on his face was one of anger and distress. They knew of course, of his affliction, but now there was no indication of his mood as they made way for him to pass.
Finally, as the king stepped toward the spot where he had noticed the chicken, he found himself standing directly before a young girl who was holding the chicken that had caught his eye.
“Child, how is it that this chicken appeared above the crowd?” Zander asked, as whispers could be heard coming from those nearest them.
It was Dorian who spoke first, “Majesty, she was holding her up above her head.”
Zander looked down at the boy and asked, “What is your name, young man?”
“I am Dorian Bellows and this is my friend, Lizabet Abbot.”
“I see,” Zander said. “And why was Lizabet Abbot holding this chicken above her head? Is it meant to be a gift?”
At this question, Lizabet’s eyes widened and she held the chicken closer as if defending her from being taken. “Oh no, Majesty, this is my friend Carlotta and she is no gift!” exclaimed Lizabet. Once she had realized she had snapped at the king in such a defensive way, she quickly bowed her head and remained that way until the king continued speaking.
“So, again I ask, why were you holding her above your head, young Lizabet?”
Lizabet kept her head down as she answered. “Majesty, she could not see you speak over the people in front of us. Why should she miss the opportunity to see your arrival?”
Zander was immediately touched.
“But child, who would lift you up to see my speech?”
“I am not concerned for myself, Majesty, but Carlotta is my friend and companion and I would not want her to miss anything.”
Zander knelt down to eye level with Lizabet and asked, “Is this boy, Dorian Bellows, not your friend?”
“Yes, he is my only other friend, and if I could lift him up as well, I surely would. But sadly I cannot lift him anymore than I can lift myself.”
At that moment, the king became overcome with emotion. He felt warmth fill his body and tears began to stream from his eyes and roll down his face. Lizabet stood before him smiling, as always, and Zander bowed his own head before her, hiding his tears from the crowd that had gathered around them.
“Why are you sad, Majesty?” Lizabet asked. “I am perfectly happy to have such great friends as Dorian and Carlotta.”
“I am not sad,” replied Zander, still keeping his head lowered. “I
have never witnessed such a thing of beauty as a young girl who can think of others so completely and openly above even herself.”
“How else could I possibly think of others?” Lizabet asked. “Isn’t it obvious that the happiness of others is what will make me happy as well?”
She sounds like my father, he thought.
“But you are thinking of the happiness of a chicken!” Zander said, as he choked back more tears.
“But Carlotta is my friend before she is a chicken, Majesty. She does not judge me on my abilities…or lack of them. She is my constant companion no matter what, and I hers.”
“But how can you be happy with so few friends?”
“Majesty, you are a king with many friends, and yet you appear unhappy. Why should I not be happy with only two? It seems clear to me that the number of my friends does not determine whether or not I should be content.”
King Zander felt something strange at that moment, something he had never felt before. He let go of his struggle to release his curse. He gave up on his determination to remove his bitter appearance. He realized, in Lizabet’s words, that he was no better or worse of a man than any other in Forris, and that he too could be content knowing that he was no more perfect or nobler than any other.
He surrendered himself.
As the king began to lift his head, he found himself looking straight at the smile of Lizabet Abbot, standing in front of him with her blue eyes and curled blond hair, holding Carlotta. Her eyes became as large as saucers as the king’s face appeared, and Zander had no idea why a gasp could be heard over the crowd.
“You see, Majesty…you can smile too.”
Could it be true? The king wasn’t sure; he only had the reaction of the spectators to tell him that something had happened. Even when he was unable to reflect his happiness, he always felt as though he was smiling, although to others he was not.
